


crop tops and whiskey shots

by darkest_shades_of_red



Series: aftg one shots [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andrew Minyard in a crop top, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Eden's Twilight, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, Smut, because Consent Is Important, brief mention of past self-harm, if stuff like that triggers you don't read the first paragraph, there's no drunk sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:07:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26273833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkest_shades_of_red/pseuds/darkest_shades_of_red
Summary: Andrew's in a bad mood, so he decides to do something impulsive. Like, for example, wearing a crop top to Eden's Twilight and completely driving Neil mad with want. There's blow jobs involved.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: aftg one shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888267
Comments: 10
Kudos: 108





	crop tops and whiskey shots

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time really writing smut, so sorry if my writing's a little awkward. Hopefully, I'll get better over time.

There was one more week left at Abby’s before they moved back into Fox Tower, and Andrew was in a particularly bad mood. Not that anyone would’ve been able to tell, but it was annoying to get mildly annoyed at everything. He wished it would stop; he’d rather just return to the usual apathy that left his thoughts enough room to fly free. This feeling just put potholes where he only knew smooth asphalt and he had to make an effort to keep his temper under control. Even when he’d decided for himself, Nicky, Neil, and Aaron that they were going to Eden’s – Kevin was away with Wymack for the weekend – Andrew’s bad mod didn’t disappear. His fingers were itching for him to do something he knew was stupid, a habit he’d dropped years ago, and he caught himself trailing his fingers over his scars when he showered. He hated the way they felt on his skin, and everything within him screamed at him to add more. He was sick of it. Distraction, he needed distraction. Digging his fingernails into his palms, he managed to finish his shower, put his armbands back on and pick a pair of skinny jeans to wear before he stood in front of the mirror on Abby’s wardrobe, determined to stare at himself as long as it took to make his reflection feel real. Every passing second made him feel worse, reminded him of this need to be self-destructive, to do things that would benefit nobody but his sick need to feel pain in order to feel anything, when really, he wanted nothing more than complete indifference. It felt like actual ropes wrapped around his chest, being pulled tighter and tighter, and he just needed to do something, anything. Something impulsive, ideally, that would take his thoughts away from his forearms for the rest of the night. Sparing no thought to his own reasons for doing so, he yanked an old black t-shirt out of the wardrobe department that Abby had left to him and took some scissors.  
Someone knocked at the locked door to his room when he was halfway done cutting the bottom part of his shirt, and Nicky’s voice filtered through the wood, “You coming?”  
“Fuck off,” he retorted eloquently.  
“I’m taking that as a yes.”  
When he was done, Andrew pulled the tee over his head and didn’t feel too appalled at the image in the mirror. The top wasn’t too short, it barely revealed his navel, but it was rebellious and bold, enough to give him a small rush. It was new enough to require his attention whenever he moved or someone looked at him. On a drunk night, he wouldn’t have trusted himself with showing skin like that, but he knew that he could defend himself when he was sober and with Neil, so he didn’t waste any more time overthinking and stepped into the living room.  
The first thing he heard was Nicky’s wolf whistle. “Do that again and I will fucking cut you,” he said in a flat voice and walked past him to put on his boots. Aaron was standing in the hallway with Katelyn, who’d decided to come as well. “Take it off, I hate it,” he said.  
“One more reason to wear it. Where’s Neil?”  
“Still getting ready or something.” Nicky whirled past him in a wave of lemon-y perfume, his shorts barely reaching his mid-thigh.  
“What is it with gays and short clothing?” Aaron mumbled to Katelyn.  
Nicky sighed theatrically; it seemed he was back to being his own self with the outlook on getting to party the night away. “It’s hot out, Aaron. It’s pure self-preservation. Not all of us want to die of a heat stroke in our early twenties.”  
He disappeared down the stairs, the metallic clang of the car keys slowly fading with his footsteps. Aaron just shook his head at Katelyn’s visible amusement and followed him. Fabric rustled behind Andrew and he felt a light touch on his hand, not enough to make him jump. “Where’s this coming from?” Neil asked from behind him.  
He was dressed up, as he always was when they went out. Somewhere in the past year, he’d given up trying to go to Columbia with his usual clothes on and stuck to the tight black ones they’d given him. Maybe he’d come to like them. Andrew had half a mind to just stay here, lock himself in a room with Neil and slowly undress him. “The depths of my intricate psyche,” he answered.  
Neil almost smiled at that. Well, at least the corner of his mouth lifted a little and his eyes sparkled. His eyes, that were currently glued to the bright stretch of skin and muscle showing between Andrew’s belt and his top. “You look good.”  
Neil’s gaze snapped up towards his and Andrew had never seen the look on his face outside of their bedroom before. _I like that you like it_. Neil’s words echoed in his head and he did his best to push them away. Other people’s thoughts had no business being on his mind. Before he knew it, Neil was all up in his space, head tilted down toward him, close enough for Andrew to feel his breath. “Yes or no?”  
“Yes,” Andrew said immediately, without even thinking, and Neil was kissing him.  
Andrew’s emotions might have become numb over time, but his body was still fully functioning, the shiver that ran down his spine at the touch of Neil’s lips was as hot as it had always been. It was the only pleasure he really indulged in, and as much as he liked, needed the feeling, it terrified him with its intensity. He was in absolute need of physical control during these moments, and Neil had somehow always understood that. Andrew was surprised at the hunger on Neil’s toothpaste-flavoured lips, trailing down his jaw towards the drooping neckline of his top. Every single one of his kisses set his skin on fire where they touched him, rough lips against his sensitive neck slowing his thoughts like honey. Neil’s hand tangled in his hair when Andrew pulled him in by the waist, tilting Andrew’s head sideways. Andrew had long since stopped objecting to Neil’s strange (and, contrary to his past statements, _quite_ attractive) affinity to his neck and instead tried to supress the shivers that trickled down his spine.  
“Get on with it!” Nicky called from the bottom of the stairs and Neil pulled away.  
Andrew ran his hand through his hair and didn’t miss the way Neil’s eyes flickered downwards again. This was going to be an interesting night.

Eden’s Twilight wasn’t packed yet when they arrived, so it was easy to find an empty table and order the first round of shots. Andrew eyed the shots but felt no desire to get drunk; not only because he was driving. He didn’t like drinking on bad days, didn’t want himself to get even more out of control. Neil knocked back his shot with the others and Nicky dragged Katelyn onto the dance floor – the two had built a surprising friendship over the summer. Aaron took the shot Roland had prepared for Andrew and made no move to either join his girlfriend and Nicky or talk to Andrew and Neil. Neil got up to get another round of shots and Andrew went after him. He stood close to Neil at the bar, waiting for Roland to notice them among the increasing number of other people. “That guy over there is staring at you,” Neil yelled over the music, eyes fixated on Andrew’s face as he leant towards him.  
Andrew shot him an unimpressed look. “Tell me if he comes over.”  
Neil nodded, glared at someone over Andrew’s shoulder, and stepped even closer; his upper arm pressed against Andrew’s. Neil wasn’t stupid enough to ask for more than that, but for only a split second, Andrew wasn’t certain whether he would really deny him a quick kiss or a hand on his cheek. “Andreil,” Roland greeted them with his usual cheer, “Nice to see you.”  
“Don’t ever say that again,” Andrew said, not bothering to yell – Roland would know what he’d said.  
Neil rolled his eyes and ordered more shots before knocking one back and turning to Andrew. He didn’t say anything, just let his eyes wander lazily over Andrew’s face, shoulders, chest, the lines of his abs that were revealed by his crop top, his legs, his abs again, and his arms, half-hidden by the black bands. Andrew’s heartbeat picked up and he tried to blame it on the thumping bass of the new song that had come on, making his chest vibrate. People were all around him, bodies bumping into him every few minutes, but it was easy to ignore that kind of touch. Fleeting, light, and not hand-shaped. He wondered what Neil was thinking about, whether he had forgotten about his annoying Exy-related worries, the thought chased away by flickering stroboscope lights cutting through the stuffy darkness, blades of green and red lightly dancing over their skin, underlining the music’s rhythm that only served to thicken the air and make their thoughts slow down. Neil’s pupils were dilated the next time Andrew looked at him. He looked downright sinful. Andrew wanted to lift his hands and run his thumbs over Neil’s freckles that were swallowed up by the dark, wanted to kiss the lines of his neck where the lights coloured his skin, wanted to bite his lip that glistened with leftover drops of alcohol, wanted to mess up his hair to an unsalvageable state, pulling gasps from his mouth, wanted to press his hand against his chest to back him against a wall where he could take him apart until his lips were swollen and dark marks adorned his neck. It drove him mad not to be able to kiss Neil right then and there.  
Neil met his eyes again and even though Andrew was sure he hadn’t let anything show on his face, he was smirking. With a last slow gaze at his lips, Neil turned away and carried the tray of shots Roland had prepared back to their table.  
“The boy is seriously into you, Andrew,” Roland said, crossing his arms on top of the counter and leaning forward.  
Andrew just looked at him blankly, quite sure that Roland wasn’t done.  
“Can’t say I blame him. The amount of ripped abs you’re showing is scandalous and indecent.” A smile played around Roland’s lips as he said it.  
“Shut it.”  
“I’ll take that as a _thanks for calling me hot, Roland!_ ” he yelled after Andrew, just loud enough for him to hear as he walked back to their booth.  
When he arrived there, he knew he should’ve stayed at the bar longer. Aaron was off somewhere and the looks Neil was giving him while they talked were unbearable, slow and charged with the same heat Andrew himself felt, the sort that burned down all coherent thought. They should’ve stayed at Abby’s. _Get a grip_ , he told himself, but only a minute later he was staring at the curve of Neil’s jaw and thinking about making him shiver when he put his lips there.  
His perfect memory was curse and blessing as the image of Neil surfaced, sitting on the edge of the bed, head tilted downwards to look at Andrew who was kneeling between his legs, kissing the inside of his thigh. Neil as he tugged his shirt down after a heated kiss alone in Abby’s living room when the door opened, smoothing down his hair, trying to wipe the blush off his cheeks and the swollen red off his lips. Neil’s fingers scraping his scalp. Neil’s mouth on his neck, Neil’s teeth at his jaw. Neil, sitting right there and then with his elbow propped on the back of the bench, his shirt stretched over the muscles of his chest and arms, intense gaze glued to Andrew’s face. He seemed to be imagining similar things, judging by the way his teeth dug into his lip. Their conversation had stopped somewhere in the last few seconds, Andrew realised. Neil pressed the outside of his thigh against Andrew’s, the small touch making his skin tingle. He’d learned over the course of this summer that touching Andrew’s body below his neck was okay, as long as it wasn’t with his hands or mouth, and Andrew hated how it gave him the confidence to do things like this when no one was looking. Even if someone were watching them, they wouldn’t know their legs were touching under the table, they’d have no idea how it made time hitch with every bounce of Neil’s foot, the sound of Neil’s breath loud enough to override the music, every gentle movement of his scarred, heavenly fingers a movement to make Andrew’s thoughts screech to a halt. It was sweet torture, and Andrew hated it all. He hated the certainty with which he could foresee that Neil was going to break him one day, slowly crack him open until he could see every tiny bump of his personality, shine light into the deepest pitch-black dark that not even Andrew himself could pierce, feel his sharp edges and the merciless cold without even shivering because the skin on his fingers was thick and rough with scars and his hands were just as cold on their own. Yes, Andrew hated that, but what he hated even more is that he knew he would let him. The thought gave him goose bumps and he was way too close to letting himself slip. “I’ll get more drinks,” he said.  
“Just a soda for me,” Neil replied and Andrew pushed his way through to the bar.  
By the time he came back, he’d gotten his apathy back. Finally, his brain had become sick of the desperate edge to his desire and let him co-exist with his physical reactions in peace. It also gave him enough space to appreciate the air that tickled his skin under the shirt, it was a relief from the sweaty heat and Andrew also didn't hate the way it made Neil's gaze and attention stick to him, like iron powder to a magnet. He kept a little distance between himself and Neil as he sat down, only to make the thrill that tingled in his chest a little harsher, a little more unbearable when Neil drank from his straw with slightly hollowed cheeks or drummed his fingers against the table to the beat of the terrible pop remix that was playing in the background. His fingers had to be cold where he kept them wrapped around his can of soda and all Andrew could think about was how welcome the cool of his palm would be on his cheek in this overheated room filled with sweaty bodies. He allowed himself to brush his knuckles over Neil’s thigh briefly before picking the straw out of his own soda to drink it. He didn’t miss the jolt of Neil’s body or the way his hooded eyes traced the lines of his throat when he tipped his head back to get the last drop out of his can. Andrew wanted to push at his shoulders until he laid on the bench, settle between his legs and kiss him senseless.  
One of Andrew’s favourite things to do was watch Neil become desperate, all restless fingers, parted lips and that lewd look in his eyes that made a knot of heat twist in Andrew’s gut, and today was no exception. Neil’s hand that wasn’t holding his soda laid on the bench between them, fisted in an effort not to reach out and touch, and Andrew leaned back, watching Neil’s gaze snap to his abs. A muscle jumped in his jaw and he visibly swallowed. Messy red hair crowned his head like dancing flames, his chest lifted and fell with every shallow breath he took, his teeth pulled at his lip unconsciously. Andrew almost reached out to drag his thumb over it.  
Neil knew Andrew liked to look at him, and he poised his body in such a perfectly casual and confident way that Andrew was almost frustrated with it. He knew Neil could be a tease, but he’d never seen him quite like this, like his only goal was to drive Andrew mad with the same kind of want that was written across his own face.  
“Why’d you stop with the shots?” he asked, deliberately leaning in no further than what was strictly necessary to watch Neil try to restrain himself from leaning closer.  
He didn’t try for long and Andrew could see dancing lights reflected in his dark eyes as he shifted towards him. “You would never accept a drunk yes. I’m hoping you’ll let a tipsy one slide.”  
Neil’s face was so irresistibly close to his and his lips were moving in such a perfect, lazy way as he spoke, his voice rough from shouting over the music and the tension between them, that Andrew finally broke. With a jolt, he stood up and pulled Neil after him, elbowing through the crowd towards the bar. He waved Roland over and just said, “Keys.”  
The look he shot him after that kept his mouth shut as he handed over a key ring and a pack of tissues, but didn’t stop him from wiggling his eyebrows and winking at Neil. It almost took them a full torturous minute to reach the supply closet at the back of the club, but Andrew remembered the right key immediately and unlocked the door with a single violent twist. Neil slipped inside, Andrew followed and pulled the door shut. Faint street light filtered in through a dirty window, enough to illuminate the brooms and shelves lined along the walls, but Andrew didn’t pay the room any mind. Neither did Neil, apparently, because before Andrew could do more than drop the keys and tissues, he was pulling him in by the neckline of his shirt, tilting his head and pressing his open mouth to Andrew’s lips. He tasted of whiskey and sticky soda, tongue sliding against Andrew’s after a breathless exchange of consent, and tucked his hands into his front pockets. Andrew could feel his heartbeat hammer against his own chest, and Neil stepped ever closer until Andrew stood with his back against the cold door. His hands automatically flew up to Neil’s shoulders, pulling him in. The music seeping through the door wasn’t loud enough to cover up the keen in Neil’s throat as Andrew kissed him harder and his hand came up to hover at the side of Andrew’s head. “Yes,” he whispered into Neil’s mouth and pressed down onto his shoulders, feeling Neil's firm muscles move underneath his hands.  
Hot blood burned all through his body at the feeling of Neil against him, the gasps he pulled from his lips, the small twitches of his hips against Andrew’s that he couldn’t supress. The knuckles of his fisted hand in his front pocket dug into Andrew’s hipbone through thick layers of denim while the other one carded through his hair in a way that spread goose-bumps on Andrew’s overheated skin. His hands felt out Neil’s body, slipped under his shirt and into his hair and over his arms, felt his muscles tense up. Neil hooked his leg around Andrew's and Andrew ran his palm down Neil’s back, halting at the hem of his jeans until he got a yes before they wandered lower, snuck into his back pocket and squeezed a little. Neil’s lips left his with a gasp and he dropped his head to Andrew’s shoulder, breathing heavily. Andrew tilted his head back up to such at a spot right under his ear. He grazed his teeth against his jaw and felt the harsh shiver that shook Neil’s shoulders. “Like that?”  
“Fuck yeah,” Neil replied and Andrew pushed at his chest, flipping them around.  
He took Neil’s hands and pinned them against the door next to his shoulders, then tilted his head up and kissed him again. Neil met him with his tongue, moving it against Andrew’s, the slick and hot taste of it enough to make a quiet moan rumble in Andrew’s chest. His mind was wiped clean, all that mattered was to chase every single touch and every single movement of Neil’s lips. Andrew let go of Neil’s hands to feel him instead, to hook his index finger under Neil’s belt and give a tug that pulled their hips into each other. Neil’s hands buried themselves in his hair again, kissing him back just as hard, and then he pulled back a little to let Andrew kiss his neck. “Have I told you how much it drives me insane to see you wear a fucking crop top?”  
Andrew gently bit at his collar bone – not because he liked Neil’s neck, and definitely not for the way his breath hitched every time his lips came anywhere near it. “I noticed.”  
When he slid his fingertips underneath Neil’s jeans right next to his hipbone and kissed him again, Neil’s hips snapped forward. Andrew could feel how hard he was already with no space left between them, and he rolled his hips against Neil’s until they both were too riled up to continue. For a brief moment, Andrew took the time to look at Neil. His head was tilted down as if he chased Andrew’s lips, his eyes closed but his lips open, quick breaths passing in and out. When he opened his eyes, they seemed almost black in the dim room.  
“Can I blow you?” Andrew asked.  
Neil caught his lips in between his again, softly bit down onto Andrew’s lip, sending a bolt of lightning down Andrew’s body.  
“Absolutely. Fuck.”  
Andrew kissed him, harsh and bruising, like it was the last thing he’d ever do. Neil’s lips made him forget about everything else, occupied his mind in an all-consuming manner. It was both an escape and something to run from, but Andrew didn’t run. He opened Neil’s belt while kissing his neck; Neil threw his head back and moaned quietly, barely audible over the bass line vibrating through the door. He was completely lost to it. Andrew pulled away to drop to his knees, but Neil’s hands pulled him back into him instinctively. Andrew took his wrists again before tugging his own shirt over his head and discarding it somewhere to his right.  
The floor was hard under Andrew’s knees, but he was too used to it to care. Pulling Neil’s jeans to his thighs, he looked up at him and was met with a hooded gaze fixated on his mouth. Slowly, he pressed his open lips to the bare skin of Neil’s upper thigh, then again, but a little higher. A hand stroked through his hair, grabbing it but not trying to move him. His hair would be a mess after this, and the thought pleased him. A huge bulge dented Neil’s briefs in the front, and Andrew didn’t make a show of pulling them down when his lips reached their edge. Neil’s moan when he kissed the base of his dick sounded like it broke free without his permission or control. He trusted Andrew enough to give himself over to him so completely, even in these surroundings, and Andrew had to force his thoughts in another direction.  
He licked along the thick vein that led all the way to Neil’s tip; the sounds he got out of him were enough reward to do it again before he sucked his head into his mouth. The fingers in his hair made a fist so tight it was almost painful, but Andrew didn’t mind at all. He popped off and licked over Neil’s tip, sending a violent shiver down his spine.  
Teasing Neil was even better than watching him, it meant Andrew could feel his heartbeat race where his hand pressed Neil’s hips to the door, it meant he got to taste his mouth, his skin, he could touch his arms and abs and ass all he wanted, listen to the broken moans spilling from somewhere deep in his throat, watch his hands grasp for support on the smooth surface of the door. Andrew dug his thumb into his palm, opened his mouth and slid down until his nose hit Neil’s body, pulling off again and sliding down again until he’d gotten used to having a cock down his throat.  
Somewhere along the line, he’d started loving to suck dick, long after he’d gotten good at it, and it had only become more pleasurable with Neil. Andrew swallowed around him, only pulling off when his eyes started to tear up and the air he could inhale through his nose wasn’t enough anymore. He stroked Neil with his hand, twisting his wrist a little at the tip, and briefly licked over his balls. Neil spread his legs a little more and Andrew put a hand on his inner thigh before sucking his balls into his mouth, which got a sound from Neil that went straight to Andrew’s dick. Andrew himself was painfully hard against his jeans, but it hadn’t gotten unbearable yet. Each moan, each ‘fuck’ and ‘ah’ that carried through the air over the music only added to it, the feeling and taste of Neil on his tongue so inexplicably hot and captivating that he couldn’t resist opening his own jeans. He doubted Neil even noticed it, too occupied with Andrew’s mouth around his cock. His moans were getting desperate and Andrew swallowed around him again, making Neil squirm against the door and Andrew’s grip on his hips tighten. Neil whimpered, a high sound that sliced through the air and reverberated in Andrew’s chest, remained there and put pressure on his chest from the inside, desperate to be released. Neil’s hips had started jutting forward by the time Andrew wrapped his fingers around himself, starting to stroke slowly, and Andrew kept his other forearm pressed across Neil’s lower stomach to make sure his thrusts were shallow. Neil didn’t seem to care, judging by the sounds Andrew was coaxing out of him, and as Andrew experimentally moved his hand upwards underneath his shirt to pinch his nipple, Neil cried out in pleasure.  
By now, Andrew’s entire body felt like it was vibrating just below his skin, where he couldn’t really see it or feel it, and it drove him mad with want, so he slid down on Neil again and again and again, ignoring the ache of his jaw, like the only thing that mattered was Neil’s hand in his hair mindlessly twitching and the obscene image he gave with his throat exposed, hair a mess and shaky knees. “Andrew,” he moaned, “Andrew, fuck, you feel so good.”  
He always said Andrew’s name when he was getting closer to the edge, and though he would never admit it, it made Andrew’s dick leak with precum and his head stop working. Andrew pulled off Neil’s cock again, replaced his mouth with his hand, and stroked them off at the same frantic pace. Neil opened his eyes and caught Andrew’s gaze with an intensity that was so private and personal that Andrew couldn’t bear it; had to close his eyes and suck Neil’s head into his mouth again. He swirled his tongue around it and licked at his slit while continuing to stroke him, tasting the salty drops of precum, and it didn’t take much to make Neil’s voice shaky and his hips frantic. “Andrew, I’m gonna come,” he moaned and Andrew tightened his grip a little.  
It was enough to send him flying into his climax, his moans got stuck in his throat and his fist clenched in Andrew’s hair as his hips gave rhythmical stutters. Andrew’s hand on his own cock picked up its pace, he could feel that familiar coil of heat in his gut glow hotter by the second. Andrew pulled off his dick when he was done and swallowed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He didn’t grimace at the taste, instead looked at Neil who was still lost somewhere on the way down from his high. The flash of blue eyes visible beneath drooping eyelids was dirty, dark, he looked completely gone. His cheeks were splotched with red, his eyebrows still furrowed, and his hair fell into his forehead in half-sweaty strands. The gasps that tumbled over his lips got caught in the folds of Andrew’s brain forever. They were his to keep.  
Andrew’s hand came to a halt as he came before continuing to stroke himself through his climax. It ripped through him like his body used its last reserves to prolong it as long as possible, to let him have these sparks of pure electrifying euphoria where he was flying above everything else, eyes closed and chest heaving. His entire body felt like lava, his insides turned to white-hot fluid and his vision went first white, then red, then slowly started to come back to him. For a moment, he felt unreal, out of place, kneeling there with his forehead resting against Neil’s thigh, listening to his own breathing going back to a normal pace. His heart still beat hectically against his ribs, trying to break free before the inevitable cold would return, but for one more moment, it was safe. Everything was warm and colourful, but Andrew could already feel the mute tone around the edges of his thoughts, his feelings, his expression.  
His heart beat once, twice, three times, then the only thing left of the heat and euphoria that had just taken over him entirely was comfortable satisfaction and less comfortable drying cum on his stomach. He’d been right to at least take his shirt off, but a bit of it had landed on his jeans. Still kneeling, he grabbed the tissues, gave one to Neil without looking at him, and used another one to wipe himself off. When they were cleaned up, they wordlessly got dressed again. Andrew eyed the mess of his jeans. The fabric on his thigh had been spared, but someone would surely notice the stains near the crotch. Neil handed him his hoodie, which he’d worn tied around his waist, and Andrew chose to ignore the bright orange and tied it in an identical manner to cover up the stains. Neil touched his cheek, making him look up into his face. Andrew wished he hadn’t, because the look he found there was so vulnerable and affectionate that all he wanted to do was selfishly wipe it off him with another kiss. Neither of them said any more, they just went back to their table in comfortable silence, drowning out their thoughts with the music that would play on until long after they’d left. Andrew swallowed a little of Neil’s next whiskey shot, sloshing it around in his mouth to wash away the taste he’d left him with.  
He decided he liked wearing crop tops for the air on his skin, the rebellious feeling it gave him (and the way Neil had reacted, but he didn't even acknowledge that thought). But if he sat a little closer to Neil than strictly necessary for the rest of the evening or if he was less annoyed at Nicky’s drunkenness, or even if he tolerated Roland’s comments with no more than an eye roll, that was nobody’s business but his own – and, well, maybe Neil’s, too.


End file.
